


Crying

by liquidCitrus



Category: Mother 3
Genre: Crying, Drabble, Feelings, Gen, Gender Roles, Status Effects, Story With A Moral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:52:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8754544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidCitrus/pseuds/liquidCitrus
Summary: Kumatora was the one who finally spoke up: “Was it the smoke bomb?”
“No. Well, not exactly.” Duster stared at the sky. Lucas and Kumatora get Duster to talk about something Wess taught him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by a t-shirt with the phrase “You can cry and fight at the same time” on it.
> 
> I couldn’t find an encounter at the appropriate time that had an enemy that can inflict Crying, so I made one up. Therefore, this is noncanon. Not by much, though.

Duster dived out of the way of the Pigmask’s smoke bomb, dodging the worst of the tear-inducing cloud. He retaliated with a kick and glanced to his partymates. Kumatora was throwing punches blindly, tears streaking freely down her face. Lucas was holding his hands over his eyes, the faint crackle of PSI gathering around him.

A distinct shock of terror lanced through him. They were crying. That was weakness. Showing weakness would get you killed, Wess had said, and that is why you must never --

Before even Boney managed to react, Duster kicked the Pigmask four times, knocking the soldier to the ground. The Pigmask raised his hands in surrender, groaning through a dented faceplate, and it was over.

Lucas wiped his eyes and looked over at Duster, who was rummaging through the Pigmask’s storage pouch. “Nothing but a bunch of receipts for food from Club Titiboo,” said Duster, curtly, as he zipped the pouch shut and stood up. “Useless.”

“He was probably saving them for the raffle,” said Kumatora. “I wonder what this month’s prize is. Maybe a set of authentic used DCMC boxers.”

Lucas made a face. “Gross.”

“You’d be surprised how desperate some of these people get. They all want to be close to their favorite celebrities. And what’s closer than underwear?” Kumatora snickered.

“Still gross,” said Lucas. “Duster, are you all right?”

Duster glanced at the boy and bit back his reflexive response. Lucas probably already knew something was up, and Kumatora would keep prying if he tried to hide it. “...Not really.”

Kumatora sat down against a cliff, tore open a bag of Pork Chips, and stuffed some into her mouth. “You want to talk about it?” she asked, around a mouthful of her snack. “I need to refuel anyway.” Lucas sat down next to her, tossed a dog biscuit to Boney, and offered Duster a slice of beef jerky and an expectant look.

Duster looked at the others and, after a brief hesitation, sat down. “Might as well, if we’re not moving on yet.”

They ate in silence. Kumatora was the one who finally spoke up: “Was it the smoke bomb?”

“No. Well, not exactly.” Duster stared at the sky. “Aren’t you not supposed to fight when you’re crying?”

“Duster. Do you fight with your eyeballs? No? Then what’s the problem?” Kumatora flexed her hands. “OK, so it’s harder to see when you’re crying, but it’s not like you can’t hear the enemy. Just aim in the right direction and you’ll hit something eventually.”

“Easy for you to say. You can set them on fire with your mind. I don’t have anything like that.”

“You do. Do you think it matters exactly where you’re pointing that siren beetle?”

“But... tears indicate weakness, right? Won’t that make the enemy bolder?”

Lucas turned suddenly towards them. “No.”

Duster stopped midbite. “No?”

Lucas closed his eyes. “I... I used to play tug-of-war with Claus. We were so closely matched that we ended up arguing instead, calling each other mean names to try and shock each other into dropping the rope. And -- and Claus called me a crybaby, and I got really mad, and I ended up running back to the house, and Mom.

“And Mom told me that it was a good thing that I cried a lot, because that meant that my feelings were strong, so I could use my feelings to help me be strong. So, the next time Claus called me a crybaby, I was still just as mad, and I still cried, but I kept holding onto the rope. And he kept yelling and yelling and yelling at me, but I didn’t let go, so eventually he had to give up.”

Duster stared at his twisted leg. “...so, as long as you don’t stop fighting... it isn’t really weakness at all?”

Lucas was solemn. “Mom said it, so it’s true.”

The four of them looked up at the sky, silent once more.


End file.
